


This Night

by Dresupi



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, F/M, Feels, Kastle Secret Santa Exchange, Kastlechristmas, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9004450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Frank needs a place to stay.  It's a cold, snowy Christmas Eve and Karen's light is on.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PunkyNemo (TheVampireCat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVampireCat/gifts).



> Based on the song 'This Night' by Black Lab, link to the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8cucFfpsqf8).

Frank’s steps were getting heavier and heavier the closer he got to Karen’s apartment.  It was just for the night.  He just needed a place to stay.  That was all.  He hated even putting her in this position, but she’d offered many times, and he’d taken her up on it a few of them.   

And he didn’t have anywhere else to go.  It was this or spend the night out in the snow.  And even Frank knew when to throw in the towel.  When to ask for help.  It was ten below and what the radio weathermen were calling a frosty cold white Christmas. 

He knocked on her door after circling the block a few times. He was certain she was home.  And that she was alone.  No holiday parties with friends.  No family here to stay with her.  

She had a wreath on the door.  Traditional.  Evergreen and a red bow. 

He kicked his boots on her top step to dislodge the snow. 

Karen opened the door and gasped when she saw him.  “Frank?” 

He immediately looked down, ashamed to even be here.  He should have just stayed out. Found some shelter or something that was willing to take him.  He should have gone anywhere but here. 

“Come in,” her hand reached for him, closed around his, pulling him inside before he could change his mind.  Pulling him into the warmth of her apartment.  The soft lighting cast by her tabletop Christmas tree. 

The spicy scent of cinnamon wafting from her much brighter kitchen.  It made his mouth water.  She was baking something.  It had that scent.  Not like potpourri or air freshener. 

Plus she had flour on her face.  Streaked across her cheek.  And her apron. 

“Ma’am, I’m—” he started.  ‘Sorry,’ he was going to say.  Sorry for being here.  Sorry for existing in the first place and dragging her down to where he was. 

“Towels are here…” she interrupted, turning to walk over to a closet.  “But you know that.  You know where the bathroom is too…I don’t have any spare clothes for you…I really should start keeping something here…” She was babbling.  Not letting him get a word in, because she didn’t want him apologizing for anything.  She opened the closet door, leaving it ajar for him as she went down the hallway to turn on the bathroom light.  “I can wash those for you, though…” she gestured towards his jeans.  His hoodie. 

“Karen…you don’t have to—” 

“It’s no trouble.” 

“No, it is.  It is trouble.  I’m trouble.  You don’t have to pretend I’m some kind of long lost whatever comin’ for a visit.  This is dangerous.  Me bein’ here.  You can turn me away, you know.  It’s within your power to do that.” 

Karen frowned chewing on her lip.  “See.  That’s where you’re wrong, Frank Castle.  It’s really _not_ within my power to do that. And besides.  You’re the closest thing to a long lost _whatever_ that I have.”

He opened his mouth to retort, except he couldn’t.  Not when she was the closest thing to _anything_ he had.  Closest thing to normal.  Closest thing to family.  Closest thing to a friend.  To…to more than that if past events were taken into consideration. 

Past events that involved hot, sloppy kisses that were more teeth and tongue than anything else.  Kisses that ended before they got good.  Kisses that he ended before he could realize he was enjoying them.  Because she wasn’t…Karen wasn’t for him.  She was the light and he was the dark.  No matter how many shadows he saw in her eyes when she looked at him. You couldn’t see shadows in the dark and that was a fact.    

No matter how many times she didn’t flinch when any normal person would have…explosions.  Gunshots.  She didn’t react to any of it and he knew that meant something.   He knew she’d seen something.  Heard something.  Experienced something.  And if he could, he’d find out what. 

But he couldn’t risk it.  He couldn’t risk the light that was left in her going out. 

But he couldn’t…he wouldn’t be the thing that extinguished that light. 

And that’s what he always told her.  And she always nodded, wrapping her arms around herself like the loss of him was too much to handle.  Like she needed to literally hold herself together. 

And his chest ached and his head hurt and he fucking KNEW it wasn’t what either of them wanted, but it was what they needed.  What she needed. 

She was staring at him, willing him to say something.  Frank licked his dry lips.  “You…you’re everything, Karen.”

And that was all he said before turning around and walking back to her bathroom.  He turned on the hot water, let it steam up the room before he stripped out of his clothes and stepped under it.  He had to stifle the moan that threatened to escape.  He always forgot how fucking nice hot showers were.  How good it felt to scrub away the grime.

He realized belatedly that he’d forgotten to get a washcloth or a towel when he’d walked back here.  He ducked his head out of the shower to see that she had already taken care of it.  His dirty clothes were gone, probably whisked off to the washing machine, and there was a folded towel and a washcloth there on the back of the toilet tank. 

Frank grabbed the cloth, grumbling to himself because she always did this.  Always did everything for him while he was here.  And what did he do for her?  Usually maul her in her kitchen or living room and leave her with nothing. 

He was still wearing the towel when he left the bathroom.  No spare clothes meant he was wearing a towel until she got his wash done.  He never felt more vulnerable than he did trying to sit down on Karen Page’s plush sofa wearing nothing but a lavender towel. 

The trick was to not spread his knees as much as he usually did.

Karen appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, illuminated by the light behind her.  “Are you hungry, Frank?” 

He nodded, looking down at his lap.  At the purple terrycloth stretched across his thighs, feeling sheepish for asking her for anything more that what she’d already given him. 

He had a bowl of hot soup in front of him before he could string together another sad small-talky sentence.  He ate it quickly, as if speed would make it somehow better.  The lights from her tree twinkled, blinking on and off at random. 

She sat down beside him on the couch.  Not touching, just beside him.  He could feel her warmth from where he was sitting.  He knew he should probably tell her that the soup was good.  Because it was.  Potatoes.  Beef.  Carrots.  Some kind of stew. 

“It’s good,” he said weakly, scooping the last spoonful into his mouth. 

“Do you want more?”

He coughed.  Because if that wasn’t a loaded question, he didn’t know what was. 

She was probably referring to the soup, and he realized that.  But goddamn, he did want more.  He wanted more of Karen. 

He licked his lips and nodded.  “Yes.  Please.” 

She reached to take the bowl from him and he held it fast, pulling the bowl closer, closer and she came with it. Willingly.  Fluidly.  

Karen’s lips tasted like coffee.  Cinnamon.  Something sweet.  Probably from sampling whatever it was that she’d been baking out in the kitchen.  Frank didn’t know what it was, he just knew he definitely wanted more. 

Her hands were in his hair.  The length that he’d been cursing for weeks was suddenly a good thing.  Because the sharp tugs sent bolts of sensation down to his gut and he liked it.  Liked the feel of her nails scratching his scalp. 

He reached for her. Hands on her waist as he lifted her into his lap and she folded around him like she was made to do it.  Her knees bracketed his thighs and he could feel himself, hard and insistent, pressing up against the towel that was rapidly loosening from his waist. 

Her teeth nipped at his bottom lip, tugging and pulling as she kissed him. Her kisses felt almost desperate. Aggressive.  With her body pressed against him like it was, he knew exactly why.  She thought he was gonna stop her again. 

Not gonna happen, Ma’am.  Not this time.

He let her mark him up as much as she wanted, though.  She sucked bruises on his throat, clawed his back when he stood, lifting her up on his front before laying her down on the floor in her living room. The towel was stuck between them, but she yanked it out, casting it aside.  The lights from her tree shone red and green, casting different hues over her skin as he bared it, tugging off her apron first, and then her blouse and pants. 

Her bra was lacy.  Black and lacy.  His thumbs dragged over the hardened peaks inside, swirling around them and dragging the lace back and forth. 

Her breath was raspy.  Loud.  Broken by intermittent gasps and moans. 

Frank tugged down the cups of her bra, tucking them beneath her breasts as his thumbs flicked her nipples, keeping them stiff and keeping her on edge.  He rocked his hips forward, pressing his dick against her.  He wanted nothing more than to plunge into her wet heat, but this wasn’t about what he wanted.  It was about what Karen wanted. 

And what Karen wanted, was to push his head down, down, down, between her legs.  He hooked one finger in the waistband of her panties and tugged them down.  The heady scent of her arousal was permeating the air and he ducked his head, licking a stripe up her slit to open her up. She rocked up towards his face.  She wanted him.  She was slick with wanting him.   

The pressure of her hand on the back of his head was all the guidance he needed, latching his mouth onto her swollen clit and swirling his tongue. 

She moaned his name.  And when it came out like that, out of her mouth like a prayer…it made him feel all warm inside.  Like maybe there was more to this than just giving her what she needed, this was about what he needed too. 

And this might turn out to be the biggest mistake they’d ever made, but for now…for the night…it was exactly what he needed.  She was what he needed.  And based on the way she was tugging on his hair, it was what she needed as well. 

 _Just for tonight_ _…_ Frank told himself. 

 _Just for tonight_ _…_ he lied.

Because Frank Castle was pretty sure he’d just become another one of Karen Page’s shadows.

But you couldn’t see shadows in the dark. And that was a fact.        

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! <3


End file.
